Grayscale Poem by William F Dougherty

Grayscale



The archived rite returns in gothic gray:
a bruise-dark sky, a blunt and tugging rain,
a sheen of black umbrellas, spaded clay.
The camera obscura, mind, ingrains
his father’s plot; and next, to seal her pain,
within three months, his mother’s sudden grave;
a delved dominion sears the turf again.
Nothing breaks the burlaped afternoon, save
when lightning cleaves the murk. Magnesium
klieg lights stun the monochrome, a dumb
tableau: the mind is cued, replays the stark
and smarting slides on memory’s screen. Surreal
and jerky frames project from a silent reel,
expose a membraned refuge caved in dark.

WFD
[Variorum redux.]

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Jim Hogg 26 April 2012

I've been here before. A mere four years more reveal even more riches - bring its power uncomfortably near.

1 0 Reply
Not a member No 4 26 March 2008

Cinematically 'alive' with the atmospheric potency of a B & W reel. Swiss watch descriptive accuracy.

0 0 Reply
Robert Howard 24 March 2008

Beautifully crafted. I felt as I was at the grave site holding a black umbrella to hold back the chill and bite of the rain. I agree with Bungay, the language is indeed masterful.

1 0 Reply
W. D. Collis Bungay 24 March 2008

wow, this is brilliant. masterful use of language

1 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success